Better To Be Feared Than Loved
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: A former student of Professor Crane's becomes his new doctor at Arkham Asylum, and tries to cure him. When she reveals that her reasons for doing this are personal, the Scarecrow is forced to decide whether it is better to be feared or loved.
1. Chapter 1

**Better To Be Feared Than Loved**

**Prologue**

Natalie Cross glanced nervously over her shoulder as she hurried across campus in the dark, starting at every shadow and the rustle of the leaves in the wind. She wasn't normally a paranoid person, but she knew wandering around in the dark wasn't a particularly safe thing for a young lady to do. But her volleyball practice had lasted longer than expected, and her boyfriend was already out drinking with his friends and she didn't want him driving back to pick her up. So she had no choice. There wasn't anything particularly unsafe about Gotham University's campus, but all the same, Natalie felt uncomfortable. She felt as if someone was following her…

"Where are you going in such a hurry, Natalie?" asked a voice. She turned to see Bill Whitmore, captain of the football team, and two of his teammates, smiling at her.

"Um…back to my dorm," she replied, slowly.

Bill took a sip from a bottle of beer. "Where's Mark tonight?" he asked.

"At Mickey's," she replied.

"Not here then," he said, grinning at her.

"No," agreed Natalie. She cleared her throat. "Well, I gotta run, Bill…"

"Not so fast, Natalie," he said, catching her arm. "Maybe you and me could get to know each other a little better, huh?"

"No, Bill, I really don't want…" she began, but the other two surrounded her.

"C'mon, baby, there's no need to be like that," murmured Bill. "I'm sure you and me could be really good friends, y'know?"

"Bill, no, please…" began Natalie as he approached her.

"Is there a problem?" said a voice.

Everyone turned to see a tall, thin man illuminated by the light of the moon, carrying a stack of books under his arm. They recognized the man, and he recognized them, smiling grimly. "Ah. Mr. Whitmore. Good evening."

"Professor Crane," stammered Bill. "We weren't…um…we were just…"

"Oh, I believe I am perfectly aware of what you were doing," murmured Crane. "You will unhand the young lady now," he snapped at the other two. They obeyed without question.

"Mr. Whitmore, I fancy the Dean will not be pleased if he is informed by the police of your intentions toward this young lady," murmured Crane. "If I were you and valued your potential career in atheletics as highly as you do, I would be very, very careful not to tarnish my reputation with scandal of any kind. I think you understand me."

Bill's initial shock had worn off, and he snorted, knocking past Crane as he went. Crane suddenly seized him around the throat, and Bill was taken aback as he struggled against an iron grip. Crane smiled. "Fear is not a pleasant sensation, is it, Mr. Whitmore?"

"Let go of me!" gasped Bill. "Please!"

Crane released him. Bill massaged his throat. "You're…you're crazy!" he stammered.

"Perhaps," agreed Crane. "Which is all the more reason for you to fear me, Mr. Whitmore. I am warning you now, do not cross me again."

Bill hurried off with his friends in hot pursuit. Crane turned to see Natalie shivering in fear and cold. He put down his books and then removed his jacket, draping it around her shoulders. "Thank…thank you, Professor," stammered Natalie.

"Not at all, my dear," he said, studying her face. "You look shaken, and you cannot be blamed for that. Where is your dormitory?"

"Other…side of campus," she murmured.

He looked at her. "If you will come with me to my office, I will drop off these books and drive you there," he said.

"Thank you, Professor, that's kind, but I shouldn't trouble you…" she began.

"It is no trouble," he said. "But of course you are welcome to refuse if you would not feel comfortable…"

"Oh no, it's nothing like that," she said, hastily. "I…I…" She sobbed. "Oh yes, please, Professor!" she cried, hugging him suddenly. "I'm just…so scared…I…"

He shushed her. "You cannot be blamed for fear," he murmured. "But you cannot let it master you. Now come with me."

He picked up the books again and put his free arm around her shoulders. She clung to him, realizing she must be making a terrible fool of herself and looking utterly pathetic, but it didn't matter. He had saved her. And she wasn't afraid when she was with him. Something about him banished fear.

He opened the door to his office, a small, cosy room filled with books from floor to ceiling. He removed a pile from a chair and gestured to it. "Sit down," he said. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Yes, please," she murmured. He plugged a small kettle into the wall and retrieved two mugs. When the kettle had boiled, he poured one for her and handed it to her. "Thank you," she murmured, looking around as he poured his own, and sat down at his desk.

"You have…a lot of books," said Natalie, trying to make conversation.

"Yes," he agreed. "It's Miss Cross, isn't it?"

"Natalie Cross, yes," she said. "And you're Professor Crane. You teach psychology."

"Yes," he repeated.

"Are all these books psychology books?" she asked.

Crane smiled. "I like to think every book is a psychology book of one kind or another, Miss Cross," he said. "For what work does not reveal something about the mind of its author? That is my particular area of interest – the mind and its workings."

"And do you learn a lot about that from reading these?" she asked.

"Yes, but I do not always read to learn," he replied. "Sometimes I read to…escape. When life becomes unbearable, there is always sanctuary within these pages," he said, laying a hand on a book. "One can live in a better world, at least for a time. A world without fear."

Natalie nodded, but didn't know how to respond. "Do you read much, Miss Cross?" he asked.

"I used to," she replied, nodding. "I used to a lot. But I don't really have a lot of time for it these days. Friends and things keep me busy…"

"That is a pity," he said. "Books are the truest friends a person can have. Always here for you. And sometimes you're able to…find yourself in them."

Natalie didn't know how to respond again, so she sipped her tea in silence. "Do you intend to report Mr. Whitmore's assault to the police?" asked Crane, quietly.

She shook her head. "No. It wasn't really an assault. And I don't like to make trouble…"

"He deserves to be punished," murmured Crane. "No one should ever make another human being feel afraid without suffering punishment. It is one of the cruelest acts mankind is capable of. They all deserve to be punished."

"They?" repeated Natalie.

"Mr. Whitmore and his kind," muttered Crane. "Bullies. I know what it is like to be bullied, Miss Cross. There is nothing so damaging to the human spirit than constant abuse and humiliation."

"Is that why you study psychology?" asked Natalie. "So you can fix people who have been subjected to abuse and humiliation?"

Crane looked at her and sipped his tea. "I study psychology to try and understand the human mind, which is capable of all things," he murmured. "If we understand that, we too are capable of all things. Deeds of great goodness and kindness and mercy, and deeds of great cruelty and violence and horror. But there is a power in knowledge – it is both a defense and a weapon. I merely seek to possess that power."

"Is it good to seek power?" asked Natalie.

"Good or bad has nothing to do with it," he murmured. "I do not regard morality as being particularly relevent in the quest for understanding."

"But surely there is always a good path and a bad path to follow in life?" said Natalie. "And it's important to choose carefully and consider whether the things we do are good or bad. Otherwise doesn't that make us just like the bullies? If we sacrifice everything to understand them, surely we just end up becoming them?"

Crane looked at her. "Let me give you an example of a scenario, and you tell me whether the decision is good or bad, in your view," he said. "A child is being bullied at school. Day after day he is beaten mercilessly, and subjected to all kinds of humiliation. The school will not interfere. The child's family will not interfere. The police will not interefere. He is alone. And so he resolves to fight, to strike back at the bullies. He takes a knife to school. He stabs one of the bullies. Was he wrong to do so? Oh, the school thought he was. His family thought he was. The police thought he was. But was he, in your view? Did he make a bad decision? Or was it a just decision? Was it good?"

Natalie was silent. "I don't…know," she stammered.

"Yes, it is difficult to tell when you look through the lens of morality sometimes," murmured Crane. "Better to throw it away altogether, and save confusion. To make decisions based on what you know is right in your heart. And the child knew that decision was right, in his heart. It was good. It was just. And I think if you had seen his poor, battered face, his eyes perpetually red from tears, you would have agreed."

Natalie finished her tea in silence, and Crane finished his. Then he stood up. "Shall we drop you off home?" he asked.

She nodded, and followed him out to his car. They drove without speaking until Natalie pointed. "Here," she said.

He stopped the car and pulled over. "Thank you," she said, stepping out. She pulled off his jacket and handed it back. "And…thank you. For everything. For saving me, and the jacket, and the tea, and…and the talk. I don't think I've ever met anyone like you, Professor. You have an…interesting mind."

Crane smiled. "Possibly the kindest thing anyone has ever said about my mind. Thank you, Miss Cross."

"It's Natalie," she said. "I hope we'll see each other again?"

"Possibly," agreed Crane. "But I am resigning my teaching post at the end of this term. I have an…experiment I intend to conduct, and I'm afraid I can no longer be employed here to do so."

"What kind of experiment?" she asked.

"Oh, it's not very interesting," he said. "And rather complex. A small study in the nature of fear in human beings. Very dry, dusty lab work."

"Oh. Well, I hope it goes well," she said. "And if you do come back within the next few years…well, maybe we can meet for another cup of tea."

He looked at her and nodded slowly. "I'd like that," he said.

She smiled. "Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight," he murmured. She shut the door and he watched her until she was safely inside the dormitory. "Natalie."

**Ten Years Later...**


	2. Chapter 2

"_Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Boy am I in luck! I think about my laughing place, ha-yuk, yuk, yuk, yuk, yuk!_"

The singing, the laughter, and the owner of that particular, distinctive laugh banging on the bars of the cells as he was dragged down the the corridor awoke Jonathan Crane rather rudely from a pleasantly solid slumber. He growled in annoyance and pulled the pillow over his head. "Oh for the love of God, why him?" he muttered.

"Morning, Johnny!" called the Joker's voice cheerfully as he waved and banged on the bars again. He continued his banging and singing as he was dragged toward his own cell at the end of the corridor. "_Everybody's got a laughing place, a laughing place, to go ho-ho! Take a frown, turn it upside-down, and you'll find yours I know ho-ho!_"

"Mr. J!" screamed Harley in excitement as he was dragged past her cell. She squeaked happily and clapped her hands, jumping up and down. "You're back, you're back, you're back!"

He chuckled. "How ya doing, kiddo?" he exclaimed. "Miss me?"

"Always, Mr. J," she sighed. He blew her a kiss before he was thrown into his cell and the door was slammed and locked. He whistled _Zip a Dee Do Dah_ happily, tidying the bed.

"You're in a good mood this morning, Joker," commented Crane, yawning.

"And why shouldn't I be, Johnny?" asked Joker, beaming. "The sky is blue, the birds are singing…"

"You're incarcerated in a facility for the mentally ill," continued Crane.

He waved his hand. "Details, details. In the grand scheme of things, I'm a lucky guy! Had a great battle with the Bat last night, a real killer! He failed to save two-hundred innocent civilians who were blown to smithereens with my bomb! Quite the joke on them! I'm back in my nice little ha-hacienda with my friends and my sweet little Harley girl! And there's even more good news! Dr. Leland's showing a new shrink around today! Fresh meat at last!"

"Yes, well, try to wait a couple days before you kill this one, won't you?" sighed Crane. "The joke's wearing thin."

"Don't you worry about me, Johnny, I'm in a playful mood," he chuckled. "It'll be a lot of fun to warp her mind a little before I break it, just like someone else I could name! How is my precious little pumpkin pie?" he cooed at Harley through the bars.

"Wonderful, now that you're here," she sighed. "I missed you so much, puddin'."

"Well, Daddy J will make up for all the time we lost tonight, I promise, pooh," he said, grinning.

Harley squeaked happily and began mouthing kisses at him. He made "I love you," signs at her, and Crane, disgusted by the sight, returned to his bed, shutting his eyes and hoping for a nap.

He heard Dr. Leland's voice approaching. "No such luck," he sighed, sitting up again. "I suppose I'd better make myself look presentable for the new doctor."

He looked at his reflection in the mirror, noting with some annoyance the flecks of gray in his hair. He combed it and then sat on the bed, waiting.

"Professor Crane?" said a voice.

He looked up to see a young woman smiling at him, a young woman whose face he knew, although he couldn't remember in what context. She reminded him.

"It's Natalie," she said, beaming. "Natalie Cross. Remember me?"

"Of…course I do," he stammered, taken aback not only by seeing her again after so many years, but by her incredible beauty, which had either increased in ten years or which he just hadn't fully appreciated before. "How…how are you doing, Miss Cross?"

"It's Dr. Cross now, actually," she replied, smiling. "I'm a psychiatrist."

"You're…the new doctor?" he stammered.

She beamed again. "I thought you'd be surprised," she said. "I didn't appear to have much interest in psychiatry when we met, but since then it's become a real passion of mine. I switched my major and went to med school and everything, and I like to think in some small way, my success is all because of you. It was your talk with me that inspired me to learn more about the mind and its workings. And now I devote my life to helping people who have been subjected to abuse and humiliation, and it's all thanks to you, Professor."

She was smiling at him in a way nobody had ever smiled at him before. But then again, no one had ever been grateful to him before. Crane cleared his throat. "Well, I'm…flattered, naturally. And I must say…it's…good to see you again after all these years."

She grinned. "Maybe we can have that cup of tea after all," she said, reaching a hand through the bars.

At that moment, a high-pitched shriek of "Natalie!" caused her to turn and notice Harley, who was beaming at her.

"Harley!" she cried, rushing over to her. "Harley Quinzel! Oh my goodness, what are you doing in here? I haven't seen you since med school, since…since that party where Hank…"

"Set the fireworks off inside and nearly set fire to the fraternity building!" finished Harley, and they both giggled madly.

"I thought you were off being a successful doctor somewhere!" said Natalie. "You were always the bright one."

"Yeah, that was the plan," said Harley, nodding. "But love changes everything, y'see," she sighed, gazing dreamily at Joker. "Natalie, you may have heard of my boyfriend, the Joker. Mr. J, this is Natalie, who I went to med school with."

Natalie gaped at her. "You're Harley Quinn!" she exclaimed. "Oh my gosh, all these years and I just didn't make the connection! I guess I didn't recognize you in the clown makeup. Well, now at least I can say I know a celebrity!" she laughed. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Joker," she said, turning to him.

"Pleasure's all mine, toots," he said, smiling at her. "Anyone who's friends with my Harley girl and Johnny Crane is gonna be handy for me to know."

"Well…I can see there's no need for any introductions," said Dr. Leland, slowly. "It appears you're going to fit in just fine, Natalie."

"I hope so," she replied. "My first day is Monday – I guess I'll see you all then," she said, smiling at them. She turned to go, and then turned back. "You ever hear from Hank or any of the others, Harley?"

"Nah. Don't hear from anyone since I became a criminal lunatic," replied Harley.

"That's a shame. We had some good times together. Hank was always trying to make you laugh. He had a crush on you, y'know."

"Yeah, I kinda did," replied Harley, smiling. "Nice guy. Funny too. Well, see you next week, Natalie!"

"Bye, Harley. Bye, Professor Crane," she murmured, passing his cell again and smiling tenderly at him. "See you soon."

The cell door shut, and Joker's smile dropped instantly. "Who the hell is Hank?" he snapped, rounding on Harley.

"You deaf? Guy I went to med school with," replied Harley.

"You didn't tell me you had other guys before me, Harley," he growled.

"I didn't have him!" retorted Harley. "He was just a guy I went to school with! Nothing happened!"

"You would say that, wouldn't you, you little slut?" he demanded. "Well, I'm going to ask dear Natalie – she'll tell me the truth!"

"She'll tell you the same thing I did, because it _is _the truth, you paranoid bastard!" shrieked Harley. "Why doncha trust me, Mr. J?"

"What I wanna know is what kinda easy dame hangs around guys like that anyway! What the hell were you doing at a party in a fraternity house?!"

"What was I supposed to do, Mr. J, go to med school in a nunnery?" she demanded. "Scream and run away from every guy who approached me? Would that make you less jealous, you insecure creep?"

"You talk to me like that and you ain't getting nothing tonight! Not that I'd wanna make ha ha with some loose floozy of a woman anyway! You're dead to me, Harl!"

"Fine by me, you dumb clown! I don't need you!"

"No, I'm sure you don't! You can always find other men to sleep around with!"

"Screw you, jerk!"

"Not again, you won't, you stupid bitch! I hate you, Harley!"

"I hate you too, Mr. J!"

Crane couldn't decide if the frosty silence between them was more or less awkward than their previous displays of over-affection. But at least they were quiet now, so he could go back to bed. He lay down on the pillows and shut his eyes, but sleep didn't come. His thoughts were whirling in mad circles, spinning like the wheels of a pinwheel, and all he could see at the heart of them was Natalie.


	3. Chapter 3

"It's so good to see you again, Professor Crane," said Natalie at their first session, smiling at him. "You haven't changed a bit. You look exactly as I remembered you."

"You're kind, but I must respectfully disagree with your statement," he said. "I look considerably older. And as for having changed…well, the law believes I have lost my mind since we met."

"The law believes you are not in your right mind," corrected Natalie. "Not that you've lost it. That would imply that it is irretrievable. And I don't believe that, Professor Crane. I believe you could be rehabilitated if you had a motivation to do so. But I think you've just blinded yourself to the potential joys of a life of sanity in pursuit of this crusade of terror and vengeance. It saddens me. I hope I can help you. Your mind would be a terrible thing to waste."

"The potential joys of sanity?" he repeated. "Would you mind enlightening me as to what those are? I spent most of my life as a sane, rational individual in a normal career, and that neither fulfilled me, nor gave me any sense of purpose or happiness."

"And does unleashing terror upon people do that?" she asked.

He was silent. "Yes," he said at last. "Yes, it makes me happy to think of their suffering. Of their fear. It makes me feel powerful to know that they are the ones afraid of me, at last. And power does give one a kind of joy."

"I don't think you need that power to be happy, though," she said. "Plenty of people find happiness without the need to feel superior to others."

"Indeed they do," he agreed. "But I am not one of them. I spent my life being made to feel inferior, and now I will correct that balance by any methods necessary. It is ingrained deep in my psyche, and I do not believe it can be changed. It is merely part of who I am. And that is their fault, not mine."

"Do you want to let them influence you that much?" asked Natalie. "To let them change who you are? Do you want them to know they've warped the very nature of your identity and personality? That seems like the opposite of what you intend. That seems like you're granting them victory, and giving them power they never really had."

"What I am doing is dispensing justice of a kind people like Batman can never understand," retorted Crane. "Because he is too afraid to see that the only way people's attitudes and behaviors can be changed is through fear and terror and violence."

"Which is certainly the attitude of a bully," replied Natalie. "And I can't believe you've become that, Professor Crane. When you of all people know what it feels like to…"

"Yes, I know what it feels like!" he interrupted angrily. "And now everyone does! What did I tell you years ago, Natalie? You know what is right in your heart, and my heart knows this is right! I won't challenge it by trying to rationalize my actions with questions of morality!"

She was silent. "Do you remember Bill Whitmore?" she asked quietly.

"Of course I remember Bill Whitmore!" he snapped.

"Shortly after he tried to…assault me, he suffered a mental breakdown. Had to be confined to an asylum. Died there shortly after, from a heart attack apparently induced by fear. Was that…your doing?"

Crane nodded. "Yes, he was an involuntary test subject for my fear chemical. Was that not right, Natalie? Do such people not deserve to have the worst kind of terror inflicted upon them?"

"Such people, perhaps," she agreed. "All people? No."

"Well, at least you are in halfway agreement with me, which is more than most doctors," he sighed. "Perhaps you will be able to fully understand in time."

"Or perhaps you will try and understand why I want you to be able to give up this mad crusade and be released from here," she said. "You have an utterly brilliant mind, Professor. You should be allowed to share it with the world. Write books, give lectures…"

"Oh, I was an academic for many years, Natalie," he retorted. "Did anybody care about my brilliant mind then? No. Do they now? Oh yes. Yes, I have shared my mind with the world, and it has terrified them."

"But maybe you don't need the whole world to understand you, Professor," she murmured. "Maybe you just need one person."

She lay her hand on his. "I read your books when I was studying for my degree," she said. "I thought I understood them, but perhaps, as you said ages ago, nobody can fully understand a book without understanding the mind of its author too. Well, I would like to try to understand you, Professor. It would be greatly beneficial from an intellectual and professional point of view. And maybe…from a personal one as well. I would like us to be friends, Professor."

Crane stared at her. "Friends?" he repeated. He laughed. "Forgive me, I…I don't recall having friends before."

"First time for everything," she replied, smiling.

"And anyway, friendship between a psychiatrist and her patient would be highly unethical," continued Crane. "There's a professional balance to consider, one I understood very well whilst I was a lecturer. There are certain lines of professionalism you do not cross with your students."

"Well, neither of us are teacher and student," she replied. "Doctor and patient, yes. But I see no reason why such a thing would be considered unethical. If there was ever any question of a romantic relationship, that would be unethical. But taking a personal interest in a patient is surely the mark of a good doctor? And it will certainly motivate me to do my best to help you. I hope it will motivate you to do your best to help me cure you."

"If it were in my power, Natalie, and if you asked it of me, I would cure myself," he said. "But it isn't. Professor Crane isn't who I am anymore. There is also Scarecrow."

"Well, if I can help you make the fear go away on your own, maybe you won't need Scarecrow to do it for you," she said. "I will try, Professor. I don't know if my psychiatric abilities are up to it, but my heart is certainly in it. And surely you'd agree that's the most important thing?"

He looked at her. "You are an exceptionally kind, intelligent, and beautiful young woman," he said. "What are you doing wasting your life in this hellhole?"

She grinned. "I'm here to help the people who need it."

"You are an angel then?" he asked. "Descended into hell to rescue the souls of damned?"

She blushed, looking down at her hands. "Hardly."

"I think you are," he said. "And I promise you if my soul is not yet entirely consumed by hatred, darkness, and revenge, I will try to let you save it."

She stared back at the sincerity in his eyes and smiled, clasping his hand tightly. And then there came a knock on the door.

"Come in," said Natalie, releasing his hand.

A guard entered. "Your 1.30 is here," he said.

"Oh, thanks," she said. "I hadn't realized the time had gone so quickly…um…thank you, Professor Crane, I'll see you next week," she said.

He was returned to his cell and sat down on the bed, head in his hands. "If my soul is not yet entirely consumed by hatred, darkness, and revenge," he repeated to himself. He raised his head to look at his reflection in the mirror. "But it is," he sighed. "I am terribly afraid it is."


	4. Chapter 4

Natalie entered the cell block carrying two mugs of tea. She headed towards Crane's cell at the far end when she was suddenly seized around the wrist and pulled into a corner, causing her to spill tea onto her dress.

"Hi, Natalie! Oh geez, I'm sorry, I got crap on your clothes," said the Joker, who reached for his pocket handkerchief. "Let me just get that for you…"

He pressed the handkerchief against her chest and began to dab at the stain. "Um…thanks…maybe I'd better…do it myself," said Natalie, putting down the mugs and taking the handkerchief from him, and then firmly pushing his hands away.

He laughed. "Yeah, sorry, toots, that was awkward! Didn't mean to grope you there!"

"Yes, I'm sure you didn't," replied Natalie. "Your reputation doesn't precede you or anything. May I ask what you're doing out of your cell?"

"Just wanted a little chat with ya, Doc," he said, grinning. "Saw you coming from the end of the corridor and thought I'd take the opportunity to get you all to myself for a moment."

"To grope me?" she asked.

He chuckled. "Nah, that was just a delightful perk!" he laughed. "No, I just wanted to ask you a couple questions, seeing as you know my Harley girl so well. Y'know, knew her in her wild, partying days! I've heard the kinda crap that goes on at college!"

He laughed again, and then eyed her up and down. "You and she didn't experiment with lesbianism or anything, did ya?"

"No," retorted Natalie.

"Hey, no need to get offended, toots, I'm just asking," he said, shrugging. "Kinda a shame that you weren't more adventurous, doncha think? Oh well, I guess a guy can still fantasize!" he chuckled.

"Of course you can," said Natalie, smiling humorlessly. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask me?"

"Yeah. Yeah, there was, Doc. This guy Hank, the one who set off the fireworks in the frat house…did he and Harley ever get up to any…y'know…hanky panky?"

Natalie stared at him. "Are you jealous?" she asked.

He snorted. "Jealous? Me? What've I got to be jealous about? I'm an incredibly attractive guy who's got a gal so nuts about me that I actually can't shake her! Well, I_ can_ shake her, and she likes it when I do, but you know what I mean. Why don't you just answer my question?"

Natalie shook her head. "No, Harley never showed any interest in him. Or in anyone. She was a really good student, always studying. I mean, she was friendly, and she occasionally came to parties and stuff, but she never showed a romantic interest in any of the guys. She told me once that she was saving herself for someone, her soulmate or something, and that she would know when she found him. I guess I should have seen the early signs of madness right there."

Joker looked at her. "So she wasn't lying," he said. "There weren't any guys before me."

"No, certainly not as long as I knew her," replied Natalie.

Joker ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, damn," he muttered. "That's a week I've wasted being angry at the little brat for nothing. Oh well, plenty of time to make it up to her now!" he chuckled. "Thanks, Doc, you're a real peach! And if you hear any loud and sudden screaming, don't be alarmed – that's Harley, and she likes it rough. Catch ya later, toots!"

He headed towards Harley's cell, laughing. Natalie shook her head, picked up the mugs of tea, and approached Crane's.

He was reading a book and suddenly looked up. "Natalie," he murmured. "This is a surprise," he said, putting down his book.

"I brought you a cup of tea," she said, handing him a mug and smiling. "I owe you one."

"Thank…thank you," he stammered.

"Sorry if it's a little cold – Joker accosted me," she said, taking a seat in front of his cell.

Crane looked at her. "Accosted you? He didn't…"

"No, nothing like that," she interrupted. "Groped me a bit, supposedly by accident. But I imagine most people who have encountered him have got off worse."

"Yes, he's rather a vile man," muttered Crane, sipping his tea. "I don't know what Harley sees in him."

"Neither do I," agreed Natalie. "But as I just informed him, she always seemed a little crazy."

"I suppose only a lunatic can love a lunatic," he agreed.

"I think you're seriously overestimating sane people," replied Natalie, smiling.

He smiled back. "Are you….um…attached?" he asked, slowly.

She shook her head. "No, not right now. My last relationship ended a couple months ago, and I'm not quite ready to move on. It ended badly."

"I'm sorry," he said, sincerely.

"It's fine – he was a bit of a jerk," she replied. "I'm better off on my own."

He nodded and she drank in silence. "Are you…um…married, Professor Crane?" she asked.

He laughed. "Married? No, you will find no one eager to marry a lunatic, I can promise you that, Natalie. Most relationships are unstable enough without throwing insanity into the mix."

"Oh, Mr. J!" shrieked Harley's voice suddenly. "Oh yes! Oh, oh, oh, that's it! Oh, harder, puddin'! Oh…Hank!"

There was a roar of rage and a loud bang, and then Harley shouting, "It was just a joke, you moron! Puddin', don't be like that! Puddin'!"

"Point exactly," muttered Crane, as Joker stormed from Harley's cell into his own, muttering to himself. A few seconds later, Harley raced after him.

"They stick with it, though," commented Natalie. "I suppose that's admirable."

"Or foolish, depending on your perspective," agreed Crane. "But then what in life isn't a matter of perspective?"

They sipped their tea. "You must get lonely being locked in here," said Natalie, looking around. "In your own little cells, seperated from the world…"

"Oh, not really," he sighed. "There's usually some form of drama to keep you entertained. If it's not Joker and Harley, it's Poison Ivy in a fight with the Joker, or Two-Face. Or Eddie Nygma trying to outsmart the Joker, or any of the numerous other rivalries among the inmates. We are all extreme personalities incredibly aware of our own sense of self-worth, and we constantly demand the respect from our peers that we don't receive from the world. Drama is fairly inevitable."

He was silent for a moment. "But yes, sometimes at night when you're locked in your cell alone…yes, one does get lonely. But I daresay that's a common enough fate, even for those not confined in mental institutions."

"No, you're right there," she agreed. "There are few things harder than being alone at night."

"Oh, yes, puddin'! Oh yes! Oh, punish me for being such a bad girl! Yes, that's it! Oh, Mr. J, I love you! Oh, Mr. J! Harder, baby, rev my engine harder! Oh…puddin'!" screamed Harley in delight.

"Especially with that going on in the neighboring cell," said Crane, smiling humorlessly.

"Have you ever thought of…rehabilitating yourself for love?" asked Natalie, quietly. "If you think it's so impossible for a lunatic to find love, why wouldn't you try it as a sane person?"

Crane snorted. "You'll forgive me for not being optimistic, Natalie, but even when I was sane, I was never particularly sought after by women."

"But you don't need women in general to love you," she murmured. "You just need…one woman."

She was gazing at him, and it made him uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and handed her back the mug. "Yes, well, thank you for the tea, Natalie."

"You're welcome," she said, rising. "I'll see you at our session next week?"

"I'm very much looking forward to it," he said, sincerely.

She beamed at him. "So am I," she murmured. She smiled again and left Crane alone, to the sound of Harley loudly enjoying Joker's treatment of her. He sighed and reached for his pillow to cover his ears, while trying to focus back on his book. It didn't work. All he could see was Natalie.


	5. Chapter 5

"Jervis! You're back!" exclaimed Crane, as Jervis Tetch entered the cafeteria at lunch.

"Yes, just now," sighed Tetch. "Batman didn't take kindly to my dream machine creating his perfect life inside his head…"

He stopped talking as Crane hugged him tightly. "It's just…good to see a friend," he said.

"Oh…thank you, Jonathan," said Tetch, slowly, as he returned the hug. "It's good to see you too."

"Hey, boys, cool it with the PDA before I have to throw cold water on ya!" chuckled Joker, passing them with his tray. "I expected that kinda behavior in a prison, but in a mental hospital? You're gonna give lunatics a bad name!" he laughed. Crane glared at him and then gestured Tetch into the seat next to his. Joker took the seat on the other side of Crane.

"Why don't you go eat lunch with your girlfriend?" snapped Crane.

"She's in session," he retorted. "With Dr. Cross. I keep asking her, 'Hey, Doc, why so angry?' Get it? Because her name's cross?" he chuckled to himself.

"Yes, I'm sure she's never heard that one before," said Crane, sarcastically.

"Oh, we have a new doctor?" asked Tetch. "You leave for a few weeks and everything changes," he sighed.

"Yeah, Doctor Natalie Cross," replied Joker, nodding. "Quite the looker, if a happily committed man can comment on such things," he laughed. "Old pal of Harley's. And of Johnny's."

"She's not a pal," retorted Crane. "We met once when I was at the University. It was a brief meeting but…very influential. For both of us. She became a psychiatrist because of it, and I…I have never forgotten her."

Tetch looked at him. "Joker, are you sure you wouldn't rather eat somewhere else?" he suggested. "I think Jonathan would like to talk privately to his friend."

"Hey! We're friends, ain't we, Johnny?" exclaimed Joker, draping an arm around his shoulder. "And anything you wanna say to Tetch, you can say to me! Unless it's 'I love you' or something – I don't swing that way, but I can't speak for the hat freak," he chuckled.

"Oh, it doesn't really matter – he's bound to find out sooner or later," sighed Crane. "The truth is…the truth is…I think I might be falling in love with her, Jervis. And worse, I'm afraid she might be falling in love with me."

Joker stared at him. "Wait, wait, wait, hold on a second. The Doc has the hots for you?" He whistled, and then clapped him on the back. "Well, what are you waiting for, Professor? If I were you, next time you're in session, I'd do her hard on the therapy couch! Or the desk – either is pretty sturdy."

"I'm aware that would be your approach, Joker," snapped Crane. "But some of us have a sense of ethics and decency. And I wouldn't feel right taking advantage of her in that way."

"Why not? She's a consenting adult," he said, shrugging. "I don't see the issue."

"Well, for one thing, I'm old enough to be her father," retorted Crane.

Joker took a drink. "Still don't see the issue," he said.

"And for another, our situation is an awkward one. When we met, I was in a position of trust. And now she's in a position of trust. There's never been a time when we were equals, when our relationship was level…"

"So now you both trust each other. That ain't an issue," retorted Joker. "Aw, c'mon, Johnny, just do her! You can certainly do worse, and you must be pretty desperate anyway! I mean, have you ever even had sex before? I can't imagine that you have, but then I don't often go around imagining my fellow inmates having sex…" He trailed off, and then frowned. "Oh God, now I've got all kinds of unpleasant images in my head," he muttered. "I mean, think about the Ventriloquist. Do ya think Scarface would be there too? That would be pretty awkward for the dame…"

"Joker, nothing you have to say is helpful!" snapped Crane. "And I didn't ask for your advice! I was trying to have a private conversation with Jervis when you invited yourself along! The only person whose advice I value is his!"

He turned to face Tetch, who had been staring at him in astonishment. "Well? What is your advice, Jervis?"

He was surprised when Tetch seized him by the collar and shook him hard. "For God's sake, man, you actually have a chance for love and happiness! What are you doing even considering reservations?! Any man in his right mind would kill for that chance, as I have! Don't throw it away because of some stupid concerns about ethics, or you will be certifiably insane!"

"But Jervis…"

"No! There is no but! My God, Jonathan, you love her and she loves you! Mutual, requited love! Can you even imagine what that idea is like for someone like me?! I can't even conceive of such a miracle! And now you have that opportunity in your hands, and you're debating throwing it away?! Go talk to her! Go declare yourself! Now!" he shouted, shoving Crane out of his seat and toward the door.

"But Jervis…"

"Now!" shouted Tetch.

"She's in session with Harley!" snapped Crane.

"Immediately afterwards, then," growled Tetch. "You will do this, Jonathan! I will not allow you to pass such a miracle by! And I will try not to be too terribly jealous of your happiness."

Crane nodded and sat back down. "What am I going to say to her, Jervis?" he murmured quietly.

"How about, 'Hey Doc, what's your favorite position? Standing up or lying down?'" chuckled Joker.

"Did you actually say that to Harley?" demanded Crane.

Joker thought. "Don't think I actually got to say much to Harley when we got right down to it," he laughed. "She was just all over me. It wasn't a question of standing up or lying down, but how many times in each position, really."

"Just be honest with her," said Tetch. "Tell her your feelings very plainly. Voice your concerns with her if they're still troubling you. She'll probably allay them. The most important thing is to be truthful and sincere."

"I can tell you ain't never been in a relationship," snorted Joker. "The truth is the last thing you wanna tell dames. Like when they ask you 'Does this dress make me look fat?' or 'Do you think that girl's pretty?' or 'Do you love me?' Never tell 'em the truth. Being in a relationship is just telling one lie after another, in a never-ending series of gags. Which is why I'm in one," he laughed.

"Perhaps I understand the theory of being in a relationship without actually enjoying the reality," said Tetch. "Which is obviously more than I can say for most people who enjoy the reality."

Crane glanced at the clock. "When is Harley's session over?" he asked.

"3.00. You got half an hour," chuckled Joker, standing up. "Try not to have a nervous breakdown before then."

He left them, laughing to himself. "It's going to be the longest half hour of my life," murmured Crane.

"Just try to relax," said Tetch. "And be yourself. That's obviously who she's attracted to."

"Is she, though?" he muttered. "Maybe I'm just fooling myself. Maybe I'm just seeing things that aren't there…"

"Jonathan, no," said Tetch, firmly. "That's the fear talking. You will not be a slave to fear, remember? That's what you're always telling me. You can master this."

Crane nodded. "Yes. Yes, I can," he murmured, although he noticed his hands were shaking. "Yes, I am the Master of Fear," he repeated to himself. "But I've never been so afraid in all my life, Jervis."

Tetch clapped him on the back. "Those are the times when we must be the most brave," he said.


	6. Chapter 6

"…and frankly, I don't think my back has ever recovered from being slammed against the desk repeatedly, but it was worth it, it really was," sighed Harley. "Mr. J is such an exceptional lover. I mean, I lost track of how many times he made me org…"

"Yes, thank you, Harley, I get the idea," said Natalie. She was clearly distracted and asked, suddenly, "It didn't bother you, then?"

"What?" asked Harley.

"You know, the…the ethics of becoming romantically involved with your patient. The unprofessionalism…"

Harley stared at her. "Ethics?" she repeated. "No, I didn't even think about those. I fell in love with him, Natalie. And nothing mattered but that. How could I let a little thing like ethics or professionalism get in the way of the best thing that ever happened to me? How could I put silly, meaningless words like that before the miracle of my love? Anyway, reasons don't stand a chance against that kinda madness. The best thing to do is surrender to it."

Natalie nodded slowly, still distracted. Harley looked at her. "Natalie?" she asked, quietly. "You're thinking about Johnny Crane, aren't you?"

She stared at her. "How did you…"

"A girl can always tell," interrupted Harley. "He's a nice guy, Johnny Crane. A real nice guy. You would make a cute couple. I won't tell Mr. J, though. He tends to make fun of people who have…y'know…feelings."

"He's my patient, Harley," she murmured. "But I can't deny that I'm…attracted to him. But I shouldn't…I shouldn't act upon my feelings…it wouldn't be right…and he…might not even return them."

"Well, you'll never know until you ask him," she replied. She studied her carefully. "Is him being your patient the only reservation you have?"

"Yes," murmured Natalie. "I wish he weren't. I wish he would…cure himself. If he could get out of here and just be another normal human being, with no professional relationship and dependency on me…I wouldn't hesitate to tell him how I feel. But as things are, I just can't…I can't…"

She shut her eyes tightly. "He told me once that you know what's right in your heart," she murmured. "And while my heart longs to be with Professor Crane, I also know deep down that if I betray my professional ethics, some part of me will always be ashamed of that. It might make me ashamed of being with him one day. I can't expect you to understand it."

Harley shook her head. "Nope. I don't understand it. But I'm smart enough to realize that there are things I won't ever be able to understand. That doesn't make them less valid."

She took Natalie's hand. "Johnny is right," she murmured. "You should do what your heart tells you. Mine has always said that's being with Mr. J, no matter how often people tell me it's wrong, including myself. I know the truth. And if you tell Johnny the truth, I'm sure he'll rehabilitate himself for your sake."

"If he can," she murmured. "He denies that there's any part of him left to rehabilitate. He's said his soul is consumed by hatred, darkness, and revenge."

"Could you love a guy whose soul was consumed by hatred, darkness, and revenge?" asked Harley. "Cause I sure as heck couldn't."

Natalie smiled. "No, I guess not," she agreed.

"Give him a chance," said Harley. "And let him know how you feel. Johnny's the kinda guy who will fight for his love, I know it."

Natalie nodded slowly. "I think you might be right, Harley."

There was a knock on the door. "Come in," called Natalie.

Crane entered the room, and stopped when he saw Harley. "Oh. I thought you were through with your session, I'll just wait outside…" he said hastily.

"No, no, it's all right, Professor Crane, we're done," said Natalie. "Um…see you next week, Harley."

Harley beamed at her and then left, giving her the thumbs up sign before she shut the door. "Nice girl," commented Crane.

"Yes, she is," agreed Natalie. He stood by the door, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Won't you sit down?" asked Natalie.

"No, thank you, I prefer to stand," he said, firmly.

"Ok."

"No, no, on second thought, sitting down might be better," he said, taking the chair. "Or standing up," he said, getting up again. "Yes, yes, I think standing up might be best."

"You seem…agitated," said Natalie.

"Yes, forgive me, I've never done anything like this before," he said, playing idly with his hands. "Um…I have something I would like to say to you, Natalie, concerning my…um…emotional state at the present time regarding my attitude toward you in your personal capacity."

"Oh…ok," said Natalie slowly. "Er…what is it?"

"I find myself…constantly preoccupied by…the very thought of you," he said, slowly. "Your kindness and gentleness, your smile and your sympathy. I…am not the sort of man who is used to receiving such things from beautiful young ladies, and perhaps this has led me to hope for something I have no right to hope for. I understand my own worth, truly. I am a man who deserves very little happiness. I have never felt my life to be one largely blessed with joy, and nor can I conceive why anyone would seek out my friendship or, more baffling still, my love. I have reasoned with myself that no one would, for I can see nothing in particular to love about me. I do see myself as a man primarily composed of hatred and bitterness, whose only hope of happiness is inflicting the same hatred and bitterness in others. These are not traits that have ever attracted love, and nor should they. But I have read enough to know that the mind is of little consequence when the heart takes hold, and my heart cannot be reasoned with. I have so many fears, so many reservations that would hold me back from confessing myself to you, but I cannot allow fear to master me. I will not allow that whatever happens. Which brings me to the matter at hand. The long and the short of it is, Natalie…" He paused, and took a deep breath. "I believe myself to be…in love with you. And the selfish, foolish part of me hopes against hope that you feel the same. I say selfish and foolish, for a young, beautiful, and promising young lady such as yourself should never be saddled with someone like me. I know I am not worthy of your love, and my mind hopes you are not foolish enough to feel such things for me. But my heart is desperately hoping that you are, and…well…as I said, it cannot be argued with. I await your response."

He was gripping the back of the chair nervously. Natalie looked at him, and for a moment he feared that she hadn't understood what he was saying, that his meaning had got muddled in his overuse of words.

"Suppose…" said Natalie at last. "Suppose…I was not entirely impartial in my feelings toward you, Professor Crane. Where would that leave us?"

"Um…well, it would leave us with a mutual…love for each other," he said, slowly. "I say love – would that be the correct term to describe your feelings?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes, I believe so. And if that were the case, what would we do about it?"

"Do?" he repeated. "Well…I'm not sure. I leave it to your experience. I've never been in love before, you see, and I'm not quite sure how things are done once the feeling is declared, but you, having been in at least one previous relationship, must surely know."

"Well…usually, in the case of two normal people, they would probably enter into a relationship," said Natalie. "One where they see each other frequently in their spare time and enjoy dinner together. Go on dates and things."

"Yes, yes, I've heard about that," replied Crane, nodding. "But our situation is…rather different. Rather delicate. I'm not sure how to proceed from here. The only comparable scenario that I am aware of is the Joker and Harley's relationship, which is hardly a model for any future happiness."

"No," agreed Natalie. "And unlike Harley, I wouldn't be comfortable with…entering into a physical relationship with my patient. Unless of course he…weren't my patient anymore."

She gazed at him tenderly. "I will be honest with you, Professor Crane," she murmured.

"Please…you may call me Jonathan," he said.

She smiled. "All right, Jonathan," she murmured. "I worked very hard to get where I am today. I value my career very much. Harley did too, but she was willing to sacrifice that, along with her mind, for the man she loves. I am not. I know if I did that, there would come a day when I would hate myself for it, and maybe you too. I couldn't bear that. The only way we can be together is for you to rehabilitate yourself. Stop the Scarecrow, and be Professor Crane, the man I love. I do love you, Jonathan. But I cannot love the Scarecrow. I don't think you are evil at heart, and I don't think he has consumed you so much that you cannot live without the need to instill fear and terror in others. I think if you had me to help you, to be with you, and support you, and love you, you would have no need for him. I know when I'm around you, I'm not afraid. And surely there is no need for you to fear when you are around me?"

Crane looked at her. "What you ask is for me to change who I am," he murmured.

"Love does require some sacrifices," replied Natalie, nodding. "I assume you've read that somewhere."

"Yes, but…to give up fear…"

"To overcome fear," she murmured. "To master fear. With my help. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

"Natalie, you must understand it will not be easy…"

"I know that," she murmured. "It's going to be a long and hard road. But let me take that road with you. You must try, Jonathan. You must try to be good again."

"Good," he repeated. "Sane. Rehabilitated. They are all impossible, unreachable, nonsensical words. I cannot even conceive of their meaning anymore."

"Are you afraid to try?" she murmured. "Afraid to fail?"

"Fear has nothing to do with it," he snapped. "I am the Master of Fear. But there is nothing left inside me that is good…"

She suddenly threw herself into his arms and kissed him tenderly. Crane had never been kissed before, and he was taken aback to say the least, but adapted quickly, clasping her gently in his shaking arms, holding her as delicately as glass, something he was afraid of breaking.

She drew away at last. "Do you love me?" she whispered.

"Yes," he murmured.

She smiled. "Then there is something inside you that is good."

"Listen to me, Natalie," he whispered. "I cannot give up myself for you. I cannot love like Harley, mindlessly, giving herself completely to her love. I have seen the pain it causes her when he rejects her, how she is nothing without him. I cannot be nothing, Natalie. I was nothing for so long…"

"You have never been nothing," she murmured.

"You don't know what it's like!" he cried suddenly. "You don't understand that kind of fear, and that kind of power! You don't understand how I need Scarecrow, how I am Scarecrow!"

"You need him more than me?" she asked gently.

He looked at her. "I need him more than anyone," he murmured. "I know myself. I am Scarecrow. I am nothing without him."

She drew away from him gently. "Perhaps I am too old now to learn how to love," he murmured. "Perhaps it is like learning how to speak – if you do not learn by a certain age, you never will. Or perhaps life has damaged me too much to allow me to make myself vulnerable, as one must be in love. But I cannot give up myself for you, Natalie. I am sorry."

She nodded slowly. "Then I don't think we have anything further to say on the subject, Professor Crane," she murmured.

He nodded and left her without another word, returning to the cell block. "Hey, how'd it go, Professor?" asked Joker, beaming at him. "That ain't the face of a man who's got some!"

"No, we agreed that perhaps it would be better in the long run not to pursue a relationship," retorted Crane.

Joker laughed. "You owe me twenty bucks, Jervis!" he shouted.

"Would you like to talk about it, Jonathan?" asked Tetch, sympathetically.

"No, I would just like to be alone, if you don't mind," said Jonathan. "Just…by myself. Thank you."

He sat down in his cell with his head in his hands. "I am here if you need someone to listen," said Tetch gently.

Crane nodded. "Am I mad, Jervis?" he murmured.

Tetch was quiet. "Well, we are locked up in an asylum," he said at last. "So yes, I suppose none of us are in our right minds."

"That's a relief to know," whispered Crane. "At least if I regret my decision in future, I can absolve myself from all responsibility. It was just the madness talking."

He sighed heavily, lying down on his bed. "And if people tell me I'm crazy to let a girl like that slip through my fingers, at least I can say yes," he murmured. "Yes, I am."


	7. Chapter 7

Later that night, Crane awoke to the sound of his cell door opening. He sat up, and could make out the shape of Natalie's figure in the light from the moon.

"Natalie, what are you doing here?" he whispered, astonished.

"I was thinking about what I said earlier," she murmured. "Love does require some sacrifices. And maybe…maybe if you knew what you could have, what you're missing by being locked up in here, the happiness that comes with feeling full and complete with another human being…maybe if I can show you that, you would be willing to change."

She slowly began to unbutton her top, but he seized her hands. "No," he hissed. "No, no, you cannot do this for me! You cannot sacrifice your ethics and your career for me, I will not allow it! I am not worthy of it!"

"Jonathan, please," she begged. "I don't want our relationship to end before it's even begun. It will be better like this, to at least give us a chance of being together…"

"No," he repeated, firmly. "No, Natalie. You said you would regret it, that you would hate yourself for it, that you might hate me for it one day. I couldn't bear that. Please just go. It's for your own good. I don't deserve you, child."

"I love you," she whispered, tears in her eyes.

"And I love you," he murmured. "Which is why I must stop you from doing this. I cannot be so selfish."

"You're afraid," she whispered. "That's fine – I am too. You told me once that we cannot be blamed for fear, but we cannot let it master us."

"Yes, I am afraid," he admitted. "I am afraid of hurting you beyond anything else. Because I know if I did that, I would never forgive myself. I would never be able to live with myself. For my own sake, and for yours, you must go, Natalie."

"But I love you," she repeated, the tears running down her cheeks.

"Sometimes that isn't enough," he murmured. "I have read so many books where that isn't enough. There is a misconception in fairy tales and fantasies that love is the be all and end all – if you have that, nothing else matters. It is what Harley believes, but she is just a child, after all. Just a child who hasn't grown up, and has not realized the truth. The truth is that love sometimes isn't enough. Sometimes if you sacrifice everything for it, and it dies, you have nothing left but emptiness and hatred and bitterness towards it, and towards the person you used to love. You cannot live on love alone. You must have other things – self-respect, self-worth, self-esteem, an occupation, friends, other relationships…I cannot allow you to give up all that for me. Please, child, you must go. If you truly love me, you must leave me."

She nodded slowly and turned to go. Then she paused, and her tear-stained eyes gazed back at him pleadingly. "Let me sleep with you tonight," she whispered.

"No, Natalie, I've told you…"

"No, I mean…let me sleep with you," she whispered. "That's all. I just…can't be lonely again tonight. I'm afraid of the loneliness. And I'm not afraid when I'm with you."

He looked at her. "You must be gone before the guards come tomorrow morning," he murmured. "They would misunderstand the situation. It would ruin your career if you were discovered."

"Yes, I promise," she said.

He nodded, and then slowly climbed back into bed. She climbed gently in after him. He pulled up the covers around her, and she tenderly put her arms around his neck. His own arms came about her waist as she shut her eyes, sighing in contentment.

"Goodnight, Professor Crane," she whispered.

"Goodnight, Natalie," he replied softly.


	8. Chapter 8

"Oh, Mr. J!" came Harley's high-pitched shriek of delight, waking Natalie from sleep. "Oh yes, puddin'! Oh yes, spank me hard, Daddy! I'm such a bad girl! Oh, that's it! That's it, Mr. J! Oh…puddin'!"

Natalie tried to ignore the noise, tightening her arms around Crane's neck and burying her face gently in his chest. He kissed the top of her head softly. "Good morning, Natalie," he whispered.

"Morning," she murmured, gazing up at him and smiling.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Mmm," she whispered. "I can't remember the last time I slept so soundly. What about you?"

He was silent. "Would it be wrong of me to confess I did not sleep?" he murmured. "I could not. I thought if I shut my eyes, I would wake up in the morning without the angel I was holding in my arms, and I could not bear the thought of that."

She beamed at him, and brought her mouth up to his, kissing him tenderly.

"Ah, nothing like a little early morning romp to start the day off right!" chuckled Joker, leaving Harley's cell and heading for his own. He noticed Crane and Natalie and smiled. "Wouldn't you agree, Professor?" he laughed. "Morning, Doc! How was it for you then? You can be honest – I know you've done better."

"Joker, for your information, nothing happened," retorted Crane, climbing out of bed. "And nothing's going to. I can't expect you to understand that, but Natalie's leaving now. Our relationship will remain a platonic one."

"Yes," agreed Natalie, quietly. "But just until you're better, Professor Crane. Just until you've rehabilitated yourself, and then…perhaps we can be more."

He looked at her. "I don't want you to wait for me," he murmured. "Nor to live in hope of something that will likely never happen. I want you to have other relationships, make friendships, and live happily. You're young and beautiful – you were made to enjoy life, not pine over an old lunatic consumed by hatred."

"There is so much more to you than that, Professor," she whispered. "I wish you could see yourself as I see you. Then you would know that you're worth waiting for. And someday, when you're sane again…we can be together, can't we?"

He touched her face. "You must not let love blind you to the truth," he murmured. "I will never be anything other than I am. I am too old now to change, Natalie. Even for you."

She took his hand. "I will be here to help you," she whispered. "Promise me you'll try."

He nodded. "I will try," he agreed.

She beamed at him, kissed him gently, and then left the cell block.

"Y'know, for a guy who has like ten degrees and reads books all the time, you're a real idiot, Johnny," commented Joker. "Why the hell wouldn't you do her? It would be a lotta fun, trust me."

"There is more to life than having fun," retorted Crane.

Joker laughed hysterically. "Yeah, sure there is," he chuckled. "You're starting to sound like the Bat now."

"If sounding like the Bat means I have a conscience and a sense of decency, so be it," he snapped. "There are worse role models. Yourself, for instance."

"Hey, I'm a damn fine role model," retorted Joker. "Women want me and men want to be me. I'm sorry to brag, but it's true. Ain't it, Harl?" he asked as Harley emerged from her cell, limping slightly.

"Anything you say, puddin'," she breathed, kissing him. "You know you're always right, my big, bad, strong lover."

"All right, cool it, kid," he snapped. "You just had some, you greedy brat. That's your quota for the month, so I hope you enjoyed it."

Harley sighed. "I'll bet you don't give Natalie a quota, Johnny," she said to Crane. "If I didn't love you so much, Mr. J, I'd go be in a relationship with a nice guy like Johnny."

"What, with no sex?" he snapped. "You be my guest, toots, see how long you last."

"No sex?" she repeated. "But I thought I heard Natalie come in last night…"

"Yes, we merely shared a bed," retorted Crane. "We're not in a relationship – it wouldn't be right of me to take advantage of her like that."

Harley looked from Crane to Joker. "Is he crazy, Mr. J?" she asked.

"Crazy like the Bat, Harley," replied Joker, nodding.

"Look, I know you two can't understand, but if we crossed that line, we would both regret it," Crane snapped. "She most certainly would when she realized…she's not in love with me."

"Well, of course she is, Johnny," retorted Harley. "And she's a smart gal. Smart enough to know her own feelings…"

"She's not in love with me," he repeated, firmly. "She told me herself, she recently ended a bad relationship. She's lonely, and scared, and vulnerable. I was someone from her past she fixated on because I saved her from an assault. I was a strong figure of protection to her, a fatherly figure, someone she looked up to and admired. And when she saw me again, she…confused her feelings of admiration with feelings of love. She saw me as someone who could make the hurt and the fear go away, as I did all those years ago. She thinks she's in love with me, but she isn't. And she will understand that in time."

Harley folded her arms across her chest. "I used to be a shrink too, Johnny," she retorted. "You wanna talk sublimated desires and Electra complexes all day, you do that. A lotta shrinks I knew made up bizarre reasons like that to try to dismiss and devalue their patients' feelings. But couldn't it be possible that maybe, just maybe, she is in love with you, and you're just too afraid to see that?"

"No," retorted Crane. "Because there is nothing in me to love."

"People say that about Mr. J," said Harley, nodding. "But if you love someone, you see stuff that other people don't see, not even yourself sometimes. That's what it means to be in love. And you can say what you wanna about me, how I'm crazy, how Mr. J is a huge Electra complex of mine, how it's Stockholm Syndrome or battered wife syndrome or all that kinda crap, made-up diagnoses for stuff people just can't understand. But you need to stop listening to your head, and start listening to your heart."

She left without another word, and Joker followed her. "What the heck is an Electra complex?" he asked.

"It's when a gal wants to sleep with her father."

"Eww. Why are you shrinks all so obsessed with perverted sex? Is it because you just don't get enough?"

"Well, I certainly don't, Mr. J, with my quota."

"You whining again after you just had it, you ungrateful brat? You're just greedy, Harley, you know that? Greedy and spoiled and an utterly useless waste of space."

"Aw, I love you too, puddin'!"

Crane sighed, lying back down on his bed and reaching for his book. He knew he was right, and that's what mattered, even if Harley couldn't understand that. She had said to listen to his heart, and his heart agreed. It was the right thing to do. Still…

His fingers brushed the side of the pillow where she had lain, and he put down his book to stare at it. A beautiful young woman had shared his bed last night, he had held her in his arms. She was alive, she was real, and she had wanted him. Even if it was all sublimation and illusion, he couldn't deny that it made him feel good. It made him feel happy. He could feel the darkness inside him lifting just a little bit. And for the first time in recent memory, he began to hope.


	9. Chapter 9

"You wished to see me, Dr. Leland?" asked Crane, entering her office.

"Yes," said Dr. Leland. She looked uncomfortable. "There is something I have to tell you, Professor Crane, but it's…very difficult for me. Still, due to the…nature of your relationship with Dr. Cross, I thought you should be the first to know."

"Our relationship, as you call it, is nothing beyond the borders of propriety," he retorted, firmly. "She is my doctor who takes a personal interest in me, and I take a personal interest in her. It is nothing more than that."

"No, I didn't mean to imply that it was," she said. "Dr. Cross has been nothing but professional during her time here. Still, I suspect that her…feelings for you are…perhaps stronger than the normal feelings of a doctor towards her patient. And vice versa."

Crane nodded slowly. "I will not deny that."

"She is Harley's friend too, and I am going to inform her personally after you leave," continued Dr. Leland. She looked at him. "Dr. Cross has…been involved in an accident," she said, gently. "It wasn't anyone's fault – her car skidded on some ice and…she's in the hospital. The doctors have told me her condition is very serious, but they're hopeful she'll pull through. That's all the information I have, but I will inform you the moment I hear of any change…"

Crane had started to his feet. "Where?" he demanded. "Where is she?"

"That information is confidential," she replied. "And I can't let you…"

"If she dies without me being able to tell her all that's in my heart, I will never forgive myself," he interrupted. "I am asking you kindly, Dr. Leland, because you have always been very courteous to me, but I will use threats and violence to secure my release if necessary. I do not have time for further discussion."

Dr. Leland looked at him steadily. "I could call the guards right now, and have you taken back to your cell in a straightjacket," she said, quietly. "And I should do that. But I would feel guilty about it forever, and something tells me she would want to see you too, even if it is the end." She sighed. "You must promise me that you will come back."

"I will, I swear it," he said.

She nodded slowly, and then went to the window, opening it. "Gotham General," she said. "Ward 6, Room 28."

"Thank you," he whispered, pressing her hand. He jumped out the window and raced off, with Dr. Leland staring after him in pity.


	10. Chapter 10

He opened the door to her room, shrouded in darkness, with only a small light to illuminate her sleeping form. She was attached to all manner of tubes and machines, and her breathing was labored and difficult. As he approached her, he saw her beautiful face, battered and cut, and his heart twisted in agony. He lay a hand against her cheek, but she did not wake.

He took a seat by her bed and looked at her. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I feel responsible for this in some way. I know it's not my fault, it's not anyone's fault, but…it seems like a punishment on you for loving me. Or perhaps, if I might be selfish at such a time, a punishment on me for allowing myself to hope. To hope that I could be cured, that I could be loved, that I could have a life of joy and happiness with a beautiful woman, a beautiful angel, someone I was never worthy of. I'm so sorry, Natalie."

She didn't wake. "You were right, you know," he whispered. "I was afraid. I'm ashamed to admit it, I'm meant to be the Master of Fear, but…I was afraid of loving you. Of letting anyone get too close to me…I was afraid of the pain it would bring if they ever got taken away. Perhaps the realization of my fear is my just reward for letting the fear master me. I was afraid of hurting you too. I was afraid of seeing the love and adoration in your eyes, something I have never seen in anyone's eyes, gradually turn to hatred and loathing. For what else do I deserve? What else does any man deserve who would not sacrifice everything for such an angel, such a treasure in his midst…oh God, Natalie!" he cried suddenly, seizing her hands. "Please," he whispered. "Please don't leave me! I do need you, I need you more than anything else in the world, and if you go…my pain will consume me. And I will have no outlet for it but to make others suffer as I have suffered. For what does anyone fear more than losing someone they love? And I love you, Natalie. I can't bear to lose you. Please…please don't leave me alone again."

He touched her face, and gently bent down to kiss her. She drew a deep breath and opened her eyes. They lit up in joy at seeing him. "Professor?" she whispered, raggedly.

"I'm here, child," he murmured. "I'm here."

She beamed. "You are," she whispered, clasping his hand. "It's a miracle. I dreamed it, and…it came true. I'm so glad. I wanted you to be here…at the end."

He shook his head. "No, my angel," he murmured. "It's not the end, not yet. You will recover, you…"

But the look in her eyes told him otherwise. "People sometimes know when they're going to die," she whispered. "I know it now. But…I'm not afraid of it, Professor. I'm not afraid of anything with you here. I never was. You always made me feel safe. I don't think you'll ever know how much you meant to me, but I like to think that…after I'm gone, I'll be able to be near you, or watching over you, somewhere where I can let you know."

He smiled sadly. "I do not believe that will be possible, child," he murmured. "I do not believe that angels are allowed to come back to hell, once they have returned to heaven."

"There are guardian angels," she whispered. "Perhaps I will be one of them. It's the only hope I have left now."

He pressed her hand. "I have no hope now if you leave me," he murmured.

"Then I will never leave you," she replied, smiling. "Please don't be afraid anymore, Professor. I will always be with you. I promise."

Her breathing became heavier, and tears came to her eyes. "I love you, Jonathan," she whispered.

"I love you too, Natalie," he murmured, bending over and kissing her forehead. "Sleep now, child. There is no need to fear anymore."

When he drew away from her, her eyes were closed and her breathing had stopped. But there was a peaceful smile on her face, a smile of joy and happiness. Crane stared at her face through tear-stained eyes, wanting to remember every detail of it, wanting to remember that she was smiling because of him. Nobody would ever smile because of him anymore. They would only scream in terror, in pain, in anguish. They would know his agony. That was all the happiness he had left now.


	11. Chapter 11

"I did promise to return, Dr. Leland," said Crane, as he stood in her office bound in a straightjacket. "But I did not promise to do so right away. Still, you cannot doubt that I'm a man of my word."

She looked at him in a mixture of horror and pity. "Why did you do it, Professor Crane?" she asked.

"Desperate times calls for desperate measures," he retorted. "Those people had to know my pain. I did not mean to betray your trust, however, and I hope you can forgive me in time."

She didn't respond, but summoned the guards. "Please take him to his cell," she whispered.

"Heeeeeere's Johnny!" exclaimed Joker, rushing to the bars of his cell. "How ya holding up, buddy? Harley told me the news – bet you're kicking yourself for not doing her now, huh?" he chuckled.

"You speak of her again, clown, and I'll rip your face off," Crane whispered.

"Yeah, I'd like to see you try that, Johnny!" laughed Joker. "Ain't no way this face is ever coming off…unless getting it cut off would be a good way to escape or something…nah, that's stupid," he muttered, dismissing the idea with a wave of his hand.

"Mr. J, can you not be such an insensitive bastard?!" snapped Harley, whose eyes were red from crying. "I'm sorry, Johnny," she murmured.

He nodded. "I made them pay for letting her die," he whispered. "Five-hundred people were exposed to my fear gas. Some of them will recover. Most of them will not."

"Five-hundred?" repeated Joker, his eyes narrowing. "Oh, I get it! Trying to outdo the Joker, are ya? Well, we'll see who has the last laugh, Johnny! I'm busting outta here tonight and I'm gonna smash your record the way you should've smashed Natalie – fast and hard!"

Crane rushed at him, but the guards held him back. It took all their power to contain him as he struggled wildly to get free and choke the Joker's mocking laugh in his throat.

Crane was thrown into his cell at last. The straightjacket was removed and the door locked. He leaned against the wall, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Would you like to talk about it, or would you prefer silence?" asked Tetch gently from the neighboring cell.

"There's nothing to talk about," he murmured. "She's gone back to the angels, and now I am damned forever."

"Once one is damned, there is no salvation," replied Tetch. "Therefore it is redundant to say that one is damned forever."

Crane smiled humorlessly. "Trust you to bring everything back to semantics, Jervis," he murmured. "But you are correct, as usual."

He reached for his book. It was _The Prince,_ by Nicolo Macchiavelli, and Crane read the following extract aloud: "'Upon this a question arises: whether it be better to be loved than feared or feared than loved? It may be answered that one should wish to be both, but, because it is difficult to unite them in one person, is much safer to be feared than loved…for love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserves you by a dread of punishment which never fails.'"

He smiled. "As usual, the written word is the truest friend, and only salvation a man has," he murmured. "It is better to be feared than loved."

"Words to live by, certainly, Jonathan," agreed Tetch.

"Crane," snapped a guard suddenly, shoving his meal through the bars of his cell. "Eat up."

Crane smiled, and ignored him, curling up in the corner of his cell. "There is no Crane," he muttered. "Only Scarecrow."

**The End**


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